


This, Darling, Is Foreplay

by daisylore



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: inceptiversary, Consumption of Food in an Inappropriate Manner, Foreplay, Inception kink bingo, M/M, Teasing, inceptiversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylore/pseuds/daisylore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much to Arthur’s dismay, Eames isn’t above engaging in a little foreplay at work. Arthur decides to give him a little taste of his own medicine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This, Darling, Is Foreplay

Arthur doesn’t fuck on the job.

Eames had heard that so many times now that it barely even sounded genuine anymore, like Arthur was just teasing him with it, waiting to see how much Eames wanted him. And, every single time Eames thought he’d finally proven himself worthy, or whatever it was that Arthur wanted from him, he would hear Arthur’s spiel again.

Apparently, sex dulls Arthur’s focus. Apparently, the possibility of a little naughty business at work is just too distracting, not to mention unprofessional. Apparently, and most importantly, he always said, time spent fucking is not time spent productively.

Eames had snorted the first time he’d heard that last one, and Arthur had told him to grow up before pausing and asking if Eames actually understood how babies were made. Eames had offered to demonstrate it for him, but the only intimate contact he’d received in response had been between his cheekbone and Arthur’s open palm. Eames had cherished that lovely little bruise for an entire week.

Either way, Arthur had explained, you don’t become the best point man in the business by coming in to work giddy and complacent from post-coital endorphins.

And, well, Eames wasn’t such a bad man that he wouldn’t respect it when Arthur said no. But he wasn’t such good one that he wouldn’t try to tempt him a little bit anyway.

So, that afternoon, he may have been shamelessly trying to seduce Arthur all over again.

It wasn’t his fault it was so hot in São Paulo, anyway, and he certainly wouldn’t have chosen today for the old air conditioner compressor to give out, leaving the warehouse sweltering. Even Arthur had shed away his formal layers in an effort to keep cool, but the attempt had been futile. So, maybe with ulterior motives, maybe without, Eames went and bought ice-pops for the whole team as a treat.

Honestly, Eames couldn’t be blamed for the way he ate his. It was basically impossible to eat an ice-lolly without looking at least a little obscene, and yeah, perhaps Eames made a bit of a show of wrapping his lips around the thing and sliding it in and out of his mouth, but who would be watching Eames eat, really? Certainly not someone professional.

What Eames really couldn’t control, though, was that the damn thing melted all over his hand as he ate it, leaving his fingers sticky with juice. He had to clean them up afterwards, sucking each one into his mouth, letting his eyelids flutter closed as he savored the sweetness, and making a cheeky bit of eye contact with his favorite point man as his fingers left his mouth with a lewd pop.

++

By that evening, the rest of the team had gone back to the cool refuge of their hotels, but Arthur remained working diligently at his desk, and Eames was taking the opportunity to get some PASIV time by himself to perfect his forge. Arthur’s stomach had mumbled something about being hungry, so Eames thought he might go for a repeat performance.

He wasn’t exactly prepared for Arthur’s reaction when he returned.

“Darling, look what I got from the fruit vendor down the street! He even cut it for us! Not that I doubt that you have a spectacular collection of knives hidden somewhere on your lovely form, of course, but I simply couldn’t wait until I got back to sink my teeth into this; it’s absolutely delicious.”

Eames took another huge bite from his half of the watermelon. It tasted incredible; he just couldn’t resist it. Then, he looked back at Arthur, who’d gone a little slack-jawed for the moment, and smiled, his lips wet and slick with watermelon juice.

Arthur closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Eames, what are you doing?” he asked, his tone provocatively serious.

“This, darling, is foreplay,” Eames responded, leering at him a little.

“No, Eames,” Arthur said, his voice low as he got up and strode purposefully over to meet him. He locked eyes with Eames, both of them suddenly silent. Then, Arthur kissed him. No, he _attacked_ him, his lips rough and demanding against his mouth, unkissed for weeks.

Eames dropped his watermelon.

++

Ten minutes later, Eames rested with his back against a wall, panting and flushed red as Arthur sucked kisses into that sensitive spot behind his ear while teasing his hand at the front of Eames’s trousers. He groaned a little at the ever-so-slightly too light contact and pushed his hips upwards in suggestion, leaning forward to grab Arthur and kiss him on the lips when – when Arthur suddenly backed away.

“ _That_ is foreplay,” Arthur said, looking suddenly cool and calm and, somehow, not utterly wrecked. “Goodnight, Mr. Eames,” he added with a smirk.

He turned and left the building.

Eames groaned as the back of his head connected with the wall of the warehouse. This was going to be the longest job ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, I would be grateful for any feedback :-)


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